


Dark History

by HiddenDirector



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenDirector/pseuds/HiddenDirector
Summary: An alternate timeline in which things going incredibly right for one Autobot means the future goes horribly wrong.Perceptor never took his dark turn down the path of morally questionable science.  Because of this, he never experimented with artificial intelligence and the use of protoforms to make super weapons.  The Supreme Units were never created.  Cybertron was lost to the Decepticons, scattering the Autobots across the universe.  Those still in contact with Ultra Magnus are working with him to regain what they lost, at any cost.Friction is a Decepticon who is given a choice, to become an Autobot Renegade or be locked away - if he was lucky.  He chooses to betray the Decepticon cause and is given to Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus's annoyingly optimistic protege, to teach him what it means to be an Autobot.  Friction now has to work to hide his past from a nosy Optimus, while trying to uncover the secrets of what exactly happened at the Battle of Fortress Maximus and the Fall of Cybertron.





	Dark History

**Author's Note:**

> Because of the changes to the timeline, some of the characters may behave either slightly or very differently to how they usually do. Please be assured that I have thought long and hard about the consequences of my timeline changes, and I will work very hard to make it all make sense as this goes on.

There was silence across the entire base as the guards changed stations.  It wasn’t a particularly exciting planet they’d made base on.  Organic, which was disgusting, with plenty of annoying foliage surrounding them.  They’d take care of that soon enough when the World Sweepers came to cyberform the planet.  Another planet for Megatron and the Decepticon cause.

Friction took his place on the wall at the northern end of the base, looking out at the woods surrounding them.  Arcadia stood beside him, both listening to the creepy sounds that emanated from it.  “What kind of organic creatures do you think are out there?” Friction asked, shivering.  Organics creeped him out.  Too many squishy parts where they weren’t needed.  Too many of them, period.  All they seemed to do was multiply.

“Probably something with sharp, metal-piercing teeth,” Arcadia hissed, leaning towards him.  “Night vision to see their pray in the dark, huge talons that can rip right through your armor and find your delicate protomesh.  And once it does, it will tear out your energon lines and drink your fuels right of the lines.  Then it will leave your body to slowly wait for your spark to snuff out… if something else doesn’t get you first… _RAWR!_ ”

“AARGH!” when Arcadia growled Friction shrieked, covering his helm with his arms.  His legs quaked, and he whimpered.  He hated being stationed on an organic planet.  He couldn’t wait for it to all be nice, familiar, safe metal.

Arcadia cackled, slapping him on the back.  “Primus, you’re such a protoform, Friction.  Nothing is here that we can’t take care of with laserfire,” she snickered.

“Stop teasing me, it’s not-”

Friction’s whine was cut off when they both heard a snap below them.  It didn’t sound like someone stepping on a branch, more like the cracking of a firework.  The pair ran to the edge of the wall and looked over, Friction pushing on the searchlight next to him and moving it around.  Nothing.

“You see anything?” Arcadia asked, though if she couldn’t, he didn’t know why she thought he could.

“No,” Friction shook his helm.

Arcadia backed away from the edge a bit.  “I’ll call the eastern wall and-”

“And what?” Friction asked, looking back at her.  Or rather, where Arcadia had _been_.  She was gone.  That was odd, there was no way for her to have left without him noticing.  Her altmode wasn’t particularly quiet.  “Arcadia?” he called, scanning the area.

Friction then jumped and yelped as a crashing behind him sounded, the searchlight going out.  He turned quickly.  There was some kind of blade sticking out of it.  An actual metal blade instead of a laser weapon.  He then started to feel panic well up when the other lights on the northern wall started going out.  Wait, where were the other guards?  There were supposed to be two at each searchlight.  What was happening?

“Eastern wall, this is-”

Before Friction could get any more out into his comm, something pierced his audial, taking his comm out.  He cried out a moment later as someone grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth with a hand.  Definitely Cybertronian from the metal body pressed against his back.  But why was there a metal blade pushed against his throat?

Cyberninjas.  Only Cyberninjas used metal weapons.  He felt his venting pick up.  Oh, frag, if Cyberninjas were here, it meant…

“Where are prisoners kept?” the mech holding him hissed into his still good audial.

When the hand was removed, Friction whimpered, “I don’t know, I’m just a guard… I swear I don’t know anything, please don’t take me offline…”

“Are you telling the truth?  You know we’re adept at telling when someone is lying, right?” the Cyberninja whispered, pressing the blade just enough that he could feel it prick into his main energon line.  Any harder and he’d need medical attention to stop the energon flow.

“Yes, yes, oh, Primus!  I’m telling the truth, I don’t know anything!” Friction begged, feeling like his spark was going to explode with how hard it was pulsing.

“Tch…” the Cyberninja made a frustrated noise, releasing the blade.  “Useless…”  Friction relaxed a bit until he felt something clamp around his wrists, a stasis shock running through his systems and shutting everything down.  He collapsed onto the metal of the wall, the Cyberninja leaning over him.  His black chassis blended into the black of the lunar sky.  Except for his details.  They gleamed gold, his sharp visor glowing a dim blue.  “I’ll be back for you when the mission is complete.  Don’t move.”

Friction would have made a smart comment about the fact that the stasis cuffs prevented it back, but he felt the stasis kick fully in and blacked out.

 

()()()()()

 

When Friction next came online, he found himself kneeling on a metal floor.  But it wasn’t the wall of the base.  No, this was clean, well-lit by artificial lights.  His servos were still bound behind him, but they’d turned the stasis down enough that he would probably be able to stand if they let him.  They probably wouldn’t, though.  He looked to his right and found Arcadia.  Her neck was bound with medical tape.  She apparently resisted harder than he did.  He felt like a coward that he panicked when she likely didn’t.  Next to her were two others, Junction and Rhythma.  To his own left were the twins Lockstock and Barrel.

Friction’s attention was grabbed by the sound of several sets of pedes approaching, clanking against the floor with every step. He looked up as a large, blue pair of pedes came into his view.  His spark nearly stopped pulsing as he found himself looking up into the face of Ultra Magnus, the Autobot Elite Guard commander.  That meant he was on the Steelhaven.  That meant their main forces were _right here_.  What did he get himself into just by being posted on that stupid planet?

“This is all of the survivors?” Ultra Magnus asked, raising an optic ridge and looking to his right.

Friction followed his gaze and found his optics widening.  The black and gold ninjabot who had subdued him was standing there, arms folded over his chestplate.  He had a haughty look to him.  “A few escaped, but most of the rest ended up offline.  Well, except their commander.  He’s in holding.  Put up quite the fight,” the ninjabot huffed, tapping the side of his visor.  One of the sharp ends had been broken off.  “We brought him in, took the base, our own people are there in their place, took these six prisoners, and rescued the ones they had.  I’d say the mission was quite successful.  And there are at least a few dozen fewer Decepticons in the universe.”

“Now, Prowl,” Ultra Magnus said sternly.  “Don’t let your creators hear you talking that way, especially when you were the mission commander.  Go report to your sire.”

“Yes, Ultra Magnus,” Prowl gave a short salute then bow.  He glanced at the prisoners, and his optics locked with Friction’s briefly.  _Wow_.  Friction felt a spark rush through him.  Especially at the little smirk he received before Prowl turned to leave.  The light sway of his hips was almost hypnotizing.  Should he feel attracted to the mech who threatened to slice his main energon line open a few megacycles ago?

“Now, to decide what to do with you,” Ultra Magnus announced, getting his attention back.  The room they were in was near empty but large.  Square with gray walls, floor, and ceiling.  There were mechs posted at the only door Friction could see, which Prowl strode out of.

“Do whatever you want, renegade scum!” Lockstock snapped at him.  She was always a spitfire.  Her sister, Barrel, also always told her it would be her undoing.  “We’re not telling you anything!  All hail Megatron!”

“Oh, can it, you metal-”

“Sentinel, that’s enough,” Magnus said sternly to the blue and yellow mech standing at the door.  The mech quickly straightened back out, though he glowered at Lockstock as if it were her fault.  The blue and white Magnus turned back to the femme as well, gazing down at her past his olfactory sensor.  That wasn’t going to earn him any points.  He was looking at her as if she was beneath him.  “I don’t suspect you’ll divulge any information, no.  But that is why we have data transfer.”

Junction gasped.  “You… you have a data transfer terminal?  You’re planning on _jacking our memories_?” he asked, optics wide.

“That’s not fair!” Arcadia snapped.  She attempted to stand up, but the stasis field from the cuffs was still strong enough to cause her leg joints to buckle back down.  “It’s a violation of our rights!”

The Magnus turned to her, his optics narrowing dangerously.  “You lost those rights with us when you slaughtered our citizens taking Cybertron!” he boomed, taking a step towards her.  “You do not get to complain about something not being fair when my people are scattered and struggling to survive because your armies took their homes!”

There was stunned silence in the room as everyone stared at him.  They hadn’t been expecting such an outburst.  The silence was broken by the door sliding open again.  A slight mech in reds, blacks, and teals walked in.  He had a yellow visor and a microscope on his right shoulder.  Something about him rang familiar to Friction, but he couldn’t put his servo on it.

“Ultra Magnus,” the newcomer said, turning to the Autobot leader.  His vocals rang with an Elite accent, something pure and clear.  “The data transfer terminal is prepared.  Highbrow Prime is ready to start the transfer.”  He looked at Friction.  “Except this one.  Prowl informs me that this one ‘doesn’t know anything.’”

Friction looked at the red and teal mech in shock as Ultra Magnus replied, “Did he?  Very well.  Sentinel, Elita, call the others from the hall.  Take the five other than this one to the data transfer room.”  He pointed at Friction as he said it.

“Wait, no, you can’t do this!” Lockstock shouted as Sentinel came over and grabbed her by the arm, hoisting her to her pedes.

“Shut your trap and get a move on, Decepticon,” Sentinel ordered, shoving her forward.

Elita, the gold femme who had been guarding the other side of the door, pulled up Barrel much more gently and guided her after her sister.  One by one, three other guards appeared and took the others away until the red and teal mech, Ultra Magnus, and Friction were the only ones left.

When they were alone, the smaller mech said, “I don’t like it, Dion.  I don’t like us using that machine.  This isn’t what we-”

“I know, Percy,” the Magnus said, far more gently than he spoke before.  He reached up and put a hand on the mech – on Percy’s helm.  “But we’re past the point of trying to be the better bots.”

“Excuse me?” Friction spoke up, feeling like he’d been forgotten.  He almost would have preferred it, honestly.  “What are you going to do with me?”

The two looked at him, then each other.  Percy moved over to him and knelt down until he was sitting on the floor before him.  He was so much smaller than Friction.  He’d never met someone so… obviously ill-suited for wartime.  “I am Perceptor,” he introduced himself.  “I am the Minister of Science.  Or… rather, I would be, if we still had a full government.  What is your name?”

“Friction,” the Decepticon prisoner found himself answering.  He couldn’t help it.  Something about the scientist was disarming.

“Friction,” Perceptor repeated with his Elite accent.  “That’s a nice name.  Prowl told me that you were different.  You don’t sound like you belong to the Decepticons.  He’s an outstanding judge of character, you know.”

“He offlined almost my entire base,” Friction pointed out.

“Did he now?” Perceptor looked behind himself at Ultra Magnus, raising an optic ridge.

The huge, dignified commander looked… cowed by the gaze of this much smaller mech.  “I only just found out myself.  You would have found out one way or another, whether he told you or you read the mission report.”

“Indeed,” Perceptor hummed, looking back to Friction.  “I’m very sorry about that.  Prowl has a particular distaste for Decepticons.  That’s why it’s telling that he singled you out as someone he wanted to spare the fate of your comrades.  _Either_ fate.  Tell me, why are you a Decepticon?”

Friction looked away from him uncomfortably.  He didn’t like the idea that the cyberninja had read him so easily.  He didn’t like the analyzing look Perceptor was giving him either.  This was his chance, though.  He didn’t want to be put offline.  He wanted to continue functioning, no matter the cost.  “You don’t have much chance when you’re sparked into Decepticon territory,” he simply said.  It wasn’t a lie, at least.

“Do you wish to be a Decepticon?” the scientist asked.

That was a harder question to answer.  Was Friction loyal to them?  Not really.  He only became one to survive.  Primus, he was a coward.  Finally, he replied, “I just want to function.”

“I cannot guarantee if you join the Autobots you won’t be offlined in battle,” Perceptor said, placing a servo on the side of Friction’s faceplate.  He turned it until it was facing his again.  The would-be Minister had a kind face.  “However, if you _do_ join us, then I can help you find a place you’ll be happy.  Someplace you can fight on your own terms.”

That was a better deal than he was given with the Decepticons.  Friction exvented, shuttering his optics.  Turning against Megatron was dangerous.  He may be offlined.  But if he turned down this offer, it was a guarantee he would be.  “Very well,” he agreed.

“It won’t be easy,” Ultra Magnus warned.  “You will be kept under supervision for the first ten stellar cycles.  You will be expected to reformat into an Autobot altmode, study the Autobot Code.  If you show any signs that you are going to betray us, being thrown into the brig will be the least of your sentencing.  Understood?”

“Of course,” Friction nodded.  He expected no less.  Pit, he expected a lot worst.  The Autobots really were very different from the Decepticons.

“In that case, my protégé will escort you to the brig,” Magnus said, stepping out of the way.

At the door stood a red and blue mech.  He saluted, smiling.  “I’m Optimus Prime,” he greeted.  “Once everything is sorted, I’ll be your acting commander.  Welcome to the Autobots.”


End file.
